The Case of the What Now's
by violomana
Summary: Hey, a first "Fillmore!" ficcy! Ahem, anyway- when Fillmore finds Ingrid graudually ditching and slacking off at school, his investigation leads him through challenges worse than a 1st degree interrogation with Principal Folsom.


**The Case of the "What Now?"s **

by   
~ violomana~ 

**Act I : Fillmore Takes "Note"-tice**

  


Here's the stitch: First Fillmore! fanfic. Trying to make it realistic. Trying to be in-character. Trying to not get to mushy/corny.   
Keyword: Trying. 

Oh, and be happy for me! After several attempts in my Document Manager, I finally figured out that in order to get things centered and bolded and such. All I have to do is what I did before and use tags! Now, if I can just remember what some of these do...like "hr" and "pre"! ^.^' 

  
Disclaimer: I'll say it only once. don't got Fillmore! cuz it's unfortunately an affiliation of Disney. 

  


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Officer Cornelius Fillmore strolled into the safety patrol office as he peered through the hustle and bustle of his fellow officers. There didn't seem to be any major trouble today. He could hear O'Farrell trying his newest pick-up line whereas Tahama was barely visible behind a tall stack of paperwork. Fillmore peeked into Vallejo's office and saw his junior chief commissioner playing around with a new fly-fishing pole. 

  
Nothing was out of the ordinary. 

  
Fillmore reached his desk in the far back and slumped into the familiarity of an old office chair. He glanced to his right. There was his partner, hastily shoving a small square of lavender paper into her top desk drawer. Fillmore decided not to say anything about it. If Ingrid wanted to share something with him, she would. At least, that's what he told himself. 

  
"So, what have we got?" Fillmore asked Ingrid in the laid-back, easy-going voice that she had gotten to know so well. 

"Not much. Today's a slow day," Ingrid answered quietly. 

"It's been pretty much a slow week. I can't believe we haven't had a big case lately," Fillmore laughed. "It always seemed like we were bogged down with work, you know?" 

"Um, yeah. Can you excuse me, Fillmore?" Ingrid said as she stood up. "There's something I have to take care of." 

  
Before Fillmore could even answer, she was gone. 

  
Something was going on with Ingrid. After working with Fillmore for the past six months, he thought they had gotten to be close friends. Real close. Then two weeks ago his long-time partner/friend started treating him like a stranger. It was worse than when they first met. Ingrid wasn't edgy or particularly unfriendly to Fillmore. She had just become . . . distant and for some reason this was starting to bother Fillmore like no other. 

Ingrid now has a list of tardies to both class and safety patrol duties. Her mind always seemed to be wandering. Ingrid wasn't as reliable as she used to be. Fillmore didn't know if he could still trust her to be there when he needed back-up. Her excuses were piling up and they were unimaginative too. 

  
Yeah, things have gotten that bad. Genius Ingrid, losing her touch. 

  
And not just in her work, but also in her relationships. 

  
'This isn't right,' Fillmore thought, eyebrows furrowed. 'We have come too far to stop talking like this.' He found himself still staring at the door that Ingrid had walked through 5 minutes earlier. Fillmore shook his head and began looking through his reports. 'Sitting around and thinking about it isn't going to help anyone,' he thought. 

  


Then he remembered the note that Ingrid forgot to take with her. 

  
Fillmore slowly raised his head and stared at that top drawer. 

  
It would probably tell him where Ingrid was going and what she was doing. 

  
And who she was possibly meeting. 

  


"Should I . . .?" Fillmore said aloud. His heart started beating faster. If he hurried, he could still catch up with Ingrid and see what was really going on . . . 

  
Find out it's something he should report to Vallejo . . . 

  
See if she was hooking up with someone . . . 

  
Was she? 

  


"No!" Fillmore whispered vehemently to himself and turned away. Just because he thought Ingrid was acting strange didn't mean he could just go through her personal things. And why was there this burning inside of Fillmore all of a sudden? The note could be anything. Perhaps a scribble from Ingrid's father about errands or an old pass from a teacher. Yet, those weren't the reasons that Fillmore was thinking about and everyone was busy enough with their own work to not take notice . . . 

  


Fillmore sighed, "Dog." 

  
Ingrid should know better than anyone not to leave evidence behind. Especially in front of him, of all people. If she had something to hide from Fillmore, Ingrid would have swept her tracks clean. Not unless she wanted Fillmore to follow her . . . 

  
'There you go, trying to justify something you know is not right,' Fillmore told himself. 

  
_'At least I would have the guts to follow her,'_ said another, smaller voice within the depths of his conscious. 

  
'Well, it's not like she's doing anything against the rules or-' Fillmore tried to reason. 

  
_'But that isn't what you're worried about, is it? Or maybe-'_

  
Fillmore mentally slapped himself. 

  


This was going to drive him insane. 

  
He had to make a choice. 

  


"That tears it!" he hissed and marched over to Ingrid's desk. 

  


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Not too bad, ne? I'm not sure if anyone is even going to read this. I don't know if anyone out here likes this show as much as I do but . . .*at a lost for something intelligent to say*. . . yeah. 

Review so that I know whether to keep going. I might keep going just for the hell of it, but I have other things I should focus on right now. Like practicing Beethoven's "Eroica" 1st and 2nd movements. 


End file.
